


Suffocate stress; shoot me down, my beloved

by TheCrimsonClouds



Category: DOGS (Manga)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, giovanni centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 17:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6998101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrimsonClouds/pseuds/TheCrimsonClouds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tiny collection of Giovanni drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suffocate stress; shoot me down, my beloved

Sometimes (almost always) Heine is the only thing, only _being_ he can see. And his image stains his line of sight and leaves the rest of his vision in an unstable blur. A shaking and quaking despondent reality-

But is this even a reality? Are we already dead? Why isn’t Lily here?

And the glint of that half halo bolted into the back of his neck just starts up the shivers and the fire racing between the cracks in his chest and

_Why did it have to be you?_

***

Mirrored splatters of blood coating his hands dripping down his coat, the lapels of his suit and down Heine’s forehead -

He thinks that sometimes he should just resign himself to that deep desire and just drop his pistol and dig his hands deep into Heine’s flesh. He already knows the feeling of his blood against his own broken skin, but sinking his teeth into him might just be enough to sate that hunger crawling around in amongst his organs.

***

It amused him to no end that Heine had found such a weak replacement for her. She wasn’t even deserving of a brief recollection of her silken hair, or shining eyes. A distorted reflection cast in soot and mud and _why would Heine waste his time pretending she was back here when he was the one to take her away in the first place?_

Perhaps he planned to break her too. In the end that was all they were capable of anyway. Just another crack in the mirror, another tumour in the underground. Another broken angel wouldn’t be new in this place.

***

It had been raining more often than not and while that didn’t _shouldn’t_ pique his interest, Giovanni felt inexplicably drawn to the drops of water suiciding onto the concrete below. Perhaps it was the realisation that on the rare moment that he was given leave to visit somewhere _higher_ than the underground he would naturally walk into a passing storm.

Splashes on his hand and cuffs vaguely reminded him of blood spilled from another enemy, from another fight and he couldn’t help wonder why the angels up there would only bleed down on him when he was in town.

**Author's Note:**

> what even is grammar


End file.
